


Hunters' Hearts

by Kalira



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Banter, Episode: s01e04 Monument, Fights, First Meetings, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Trevor's Foul Mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29371299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: An unexpected development derails the fight between The Sleeping Soldier and the last Belmont, but quite frankly neither of them have any wish to discuss it, even if they knew what words to put to the feelings suddenly brought forth.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont
Comments: 7
Kudos: 90
Collections: Valentine's Spectacular (2021)





	Hunters' Hearts

“Please don’t let the vampire’s guts ruin my good tunic.” Belmont almost growled beneath him, giving a feral grin.

Alucard stiffened, looking down between them. Belmont had a knife pressed to him, and he hissed, then pressed closer, baring his fangs as he highlighted their positions.

Belmont laughed as though it was nothing - his own death, even, so long as he took Alucard with him - and Alucard was . . . fascinated, despite himself. His nose twitched - Belmont meant every word he said . . . and could use a three-day bath, besides.

“Oh shit-for-brains fucking pig’s _bastard_ , god _laughs_ -”

“Belmont.” Alucard snapped sharply, eyes narrowing, because Belmont’s demeanour had changed entirely, and he was no longer meeting Alucard’s eyes. “Belmont! What has gotten into-”

Alucard twitched as the blade drew further over his chest, his heart thudding. He tensed, but looked down, following Belmont’s eyes as well as his blade.

He froze. “Oh, _buggering_ -”

There was a gilt-edged russet crest on Alucard’s chest, over his heart. A vibrant mark which had not been there when he went to his rest a year ago - nor- nor when he woke to the disturbance in the chamber. The Belmont crest. The same that shone clearly from Belmont’s tunic, of course.

“What is going on? Explain yourselves!”

Only barely aware of the voice behind him, Alucard pulled back slowly, lifting his hand to cover his new mark and swallowing thickly. “Soul. . .” he trailed off, a shiver running down his spine. He couldn’t quite help himself, looking at Belmont closely, though there were no visible marks on him.

Belmont scrambled to his feet, eyes fixed on Alucard, his blade tumbling to the floor with a clatter.

“Trevor?”

Belmont - Trevor - didn’t respond to his companion, and Alucard’s brows rose as he unbuckled the straps crossing his chest, then dragged at his bracers, dropping them at his feet - Alucard eyed the heap warily as it _clanked_ against the floor - before hauling his tunic off over his head.

Alucard realised belatedly what he was doing as he ran his hands over his own chest, looking at himself and breathing a harsh little sigh. “Oh thank fuck,” Belmont muttered, “nothing, he’s just a mad leech-”

“You have a tattoo?” the Speaker girl asked.

“. . .no.” Belmont said, slow and clearly well aware of the situation. Alucard’s eyes were already on the bright mark that rested just above his left hip. A white wolf with a chain of golden lilies wound around his neck like a loose collar.

He swallowed thickly. He was vaguely aware of Belmont cursing again, at greater length this time, and quite creatively - at least initially, he did start to repeat himself and devolve rather rapidly. Alucard couldn’t quite take his eyes off the wolf - the soulmark. At least, not until-

“Why is there a buggering _wolf_ on me?”

Alucard licked his lips. “I can become a wolf.” he said faintly.

“What is going _on_ \- Oh!” the Speaker said. “Soulmarks? You have new soulmarks?”

Belmont swore. Alucard fought a flush and touched the Belmont crest on his chest once more, careful and light. “So it seems.” he said softly.

“. . .does this mean that you two will stop trying to _kill_ each other?” the Speaker asked, lifting her chin. “We need to work together, as it says in the stories.”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Belmont spat, glaring at Alucard. He didn’t react, but he felt a dull ache in his chest.

“Trevor!”

“ _Fine._ ” Belmont looked at the mark again, then bent to grab his clothes and gear from the floor. He looked at Alucard, glancing at his face but lingering on his new soulmark.

Alucard nodded shortly and turned away, returning to the coffin in which he had slept for so long - though he still felt the ache of his father’s blow, now overlaid with the sharper, if smaller, pain where Belmont’s blade had laid open his chest - dressing with a last look at his own chest, then summoning his sword with a flick of his fingers.

With little more discussion - and no more mention of the soulmarks now hidden away beneath Alucard and Belmont’s shirts - they made their way out of the hidden catacombs together.

~

Trevor turned onto his other side restlessly, unable to sleep. The night before - still in Gresit - had been easy enough; he’d been uneasy with Alucard nearby, but he’d also been exhausted from the battles he’d fought, and once he was someplace safe enough sleep had come quickly.

Tonight, however. . . Despite their time on the road. . . Well. Trevor was used to hard travel, he wasn’t nearly weary enough to dull the thoughts knotting up in his head. He wished to be . . . well, not back in Gresit, bunch of idiots they were, but at least somewhere with enough civilisation he could’ve gone for beer before trying to sleep.

His hip felt like it was burning. He knew it was only in his head, but the soulmark was vivid in his mind’s eye regardless. The sleek, dangerous-looking wolf - with its incongruous circlet of flowers.

Trevor sighed, unfolding his cloak and sitting up, rubbing a hand through his hair and glancing over at Sypha. She didn’t stir; he hadn’t disturbed her. He grimaced, edging away a little.

 _There’s no need to be so concerned about this!_ Sypha had told him, squeezing his forearm, and Trevor had _perhaps_ spat something rude about being bound to a _vampire_ even if he _was_ helping them. For now. Maybe. Sypha had snapped at him for that, but waved dismissively all the same. _My people have long refused to be so bound or guided by soulmarks! We know God hates our people, you know, and to think he could choose the supposed perfect match for us?_  
  
Trevor rose, shaking his head slightly as he moved away - he wasn’t sleeping any time soon, anyway. Nor was Alucard, he supposed, seeing the vampire - half-vampire - sitting at the fire, now burning low over the coals.

Trevor had been shocked at Sypha’s information. _That_ hadn’t been in his grandfather’s notes about Speakers, but then, he may not have discovered that - soulmarks were not generally spoken about much in polite company. And while Trevor’s family had never exactly been _polite company_ they did have their own. . .

They _respected_ soulmarks, too. To find one’s soulmate. . . Trevor couldn’t help but remember his parents, not only the way they had been happy together, but the quiet talks they’d shared about their soulmarks and about soulmates in general.

Once, Trevor had entertained . . . quiet dreams of finding his, a match to him as his parents had. That had been a long time ago, though. And even then, he never would have-

“Vampires do have soulmates.” Alucard said, and Trevor stumbled a little, startled, and turned to stare at him. He still hadn’t moved, facing the fire with his back to Trevor. “My mother,” he said softly, “had a black lily in her left palm.”

Trevor winced, remembering his father allowing Trevor to trace the battleaxe - its grip wrapped in startlingly bright blue, wound with lace - on his forearm; his mother showing the book with a crossed pen and compass on its cover which she had carried on one shoulder blade.

He moved to join Alucard, clasping his shoulder gently, and Alucard looked up. Trevor shifted uncomfortably, releasing his grip, then- He stepped over the log and folded his legs, settling beside Alucard.

“I know.” Trevor admitted. “About vampires.” He tipped his head back with a sigh, not really seeing the star-studded blackness above. Of course he knew about vampires. He knew many things about vampires, and their soulmarks were the least of it. He also knew Alucard wasn’t, truly, a vampire - even if he didn’t trust Alucard; Trevor didn’t trust anyone - and even if he had been. . .

Trevor shifted uncomfortably. He’d read through many of his ancestors’ journals - though his father had carefully curated which ones he was _allowed_ to read; knowing his family, Trevor could make some educated guesses as to why - and he remembered. . .

Well, he wasn’t the first Belmont to have found their soulmark on something - some _one_ \- other than human.

“I apologise.” Trevor said slowly. “I was,” he paused, “shocked.”

 _Shocked_ was rather more polite than he wanted to be, but Alucard could probably guess that, too, unless he had shit for brains, after Trevor’s initial reaction.

Alucard snickered, and Trevor looked at him, startled, then glared, shoving him. Alucard laughed, shoving back. “Fuck off!” Trevor snapped, and Alucard snorted, grinning - his sharp fangs showed - and punched his side.

It stung, and Trevor kicked him, but it had been . . . gentle. Trevor’s retaliatory kick was only enough to send Alucard skidding sideways, wavering and nearly toppling over. Alucard laughed again and Trevor realised he was snickering himself just as he took the toe of a fine leather boot to the thigh, almost in the ass, and smothered a yelp, jerking away and kneeing Alucard’s legs.

Alucard lunged for him and they scuffled by the fire, laughing and occasionally cursing at one another, until Alucard hissed, jerking, and Trevor realised he’d slammed his head into one of the rocks around the fire. Trevor winced, reaching for the spot without thinking.

His fingers sank into soft golden waves and Alucard looked up at him, lashes fluttering for a moment before their eyes met. Trevor swallowed thickly.

“I am sorry.” Alucard said, and Trevor frowned, confused. “I know that a creature like myself cannot be what you-”

Trevor scowled, fingers curling into a fist and nearly pulling Alucard’s hair. “Don’t apologise for being my soulmate.” he said, low and harsh, feeling a little breathless at _voicing it_ but not letting himself stop. “Not unless _you_ . . . regret it. Wish you were not.”

“What?” Alucard startled. “No, of course I d-”

“Then don’t apologise. Never apologise for a soulmark.” Trevor shifted, looking away. “They’re . . . important.” he said quietly.

He twitched as Alucard’s fingers brushed his cheek, meeting Alucard’s striking eyes once more. He smiled slightly, something complicated and not quite sorrowful showing in his eyes.

“I do not know you yet, Belmont,” Alucard said softly, “ _Trevor_ , but . . . I do not regret bearing your mark.” His thumb rubbed over Trevor’s cheek. “And I hope we can grow to know one another, even,” his lips twisted, “if this is not the best moment.”

“Is there ever?” Trevor asked wryly. “My mother and father found one another while she was on a hunt and he was half killed in the process.” He rolled his neck, not watching Alucard’s reaction.

“. . .perhaps not.” Alucard said simply.

“Well. I don’t regret finally finding my mark on you, either.” Trevor said, aware his tone was a little more _mulish_ than _welcoming_. “Just.”

“We will have time to know one another.” Alucard said, gracefully rescuing Trevor from the floundering corner he had talked himself into.

“Yes. Right. That.” Trevor nodded.

Alucard tilted his head, his hair tugging at Trevor’s fingers. “Especially, I suppose, if you intend to keep lying on me.” he teased, lips curling into a small, wicked smile.


End file.
